


Into the Window

by nerderek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Ficlet, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oblivious Stiles, Pining, Pining Derek, Sharing a Bed, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, anyway this is just fluff because i dont know what im doing, i guess, until hes not oblivious anymore, what even is canon anymore tbh i havent watched this show since like s3 ended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 15:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerderek/pseuds/nerderek
Summary: Stiles crashes in his bed after a fight, until Derek climbs into his window.





	Into the Window

**Author's Note:**

> hi, hello, ive been reading sterek fic since 2012 and ive never had the guts to write and post any of my own but i love this community a lot and i wanna give it something even if i dont have anything good to give lol.

Stiles wakes to the sound of his window opening.

The night air feels frigid against his sleep-warmed skin and he opens his eyes blearily. If he weren’t so exhausted he might have the good sense to be more alarmed, considering the past few years. 

His tired eyes find Derek’s staring at him from the other side of the room.

“D’rek?” He asks, and, before he came home and passed out (still in his torn t-shirt) he’d spent the last however many hours running for his life, so who can really blame him for being a little out of it. Derek makes a vaguely affirming noise, a grunt really, in the dark and Stiles searches for the switch on his bedside lamp, blinking uncomfortably when he finds it. Suddenly he can see Derek’s face, all twisted up and looking like he’s probably harboring some kind of emotionally driven self-anguish underneath all of that gorgeous stubble. Stiles yawns and waves him in. “Are you okay?” 

Derek looks like the question catches him off guard and if Stiles wasn’t still half asleep he’d realize that Derek didn’t know the answer, he’d hardly been thinking of himself. The werewolf nods anyway and slinks closer to the bed. 

“Are you all right?” He asks Stiles, sitting at the boys feet, “There were some close calls tonight.” Stiles nods but when he tries to sit up Derek hears his heart beat quicken, even before he hears the sharp intake of breath and wince that Stiles lets out. He makes to reach for him but stops himself at the last moment. Stiles catches him breathing purposefully through his nose. 

“You’re bleeding.” It’s all Derek says before he abandons all restraint and pushes Stiles sleeve up to see where the gash along his bicep is oozing sluggishly. Stiles allows himself a moment to wonder when he got that, he thinks it must have been a graze from when he dove to take a hit for Isaac. He huffs a sour laugh. 

“I didn’t even know that was there.” Derek hums distractedly, putting all his attention on where Stiles is hurt before he heads to the bathroom where he knows Stiles keeps his first aid kit. He comes back with the kit and a towel, and Stiles asks himself when this became something normal. When did Derek get so comfortable in his house? When did he decide it was his responsibility to make sure Stiles was okay? Stiles knew it wasn’t just another pack thing. Derek never checked up on Scott. 

He cleans the wound quickly, the sting waking Stiles up and making his nerves cry out, and dresses it neatly, it’s practiced routine by now. A weak smile stretches Stiles’s chapped lips. 

They’re sitting close now, because of Derek’s position playing nurse and because it seems like they’re always drifting close these days. Stiles can feel Derek rubbing little circles into his shoulder where he’d been holding him while he put the bandage on and he doesn’t know how he ever missed it before. 

“You should- you should stay,” he says, nervous and excited with his revelation, “please.” Derek’s eyes go wide and he nods dumbly, like he’s just as scared by that idea as Stiles is, and like he’d been wanting to anyway. Stiles slides back down the bed until the covers are almost at his nose and watches Derek lock the window before carefully untying and toeing off his shoes. He blushes when Derek pops the button on his jeans and looks away when he slides them off his thighs. He’s wearing dark blue briefs. Maybe Stiles hasn’t thought this through, but it’s too late to go back now. He scoots over when Derek reaches the bed, and blushes even more when he crawls under the duvet and buries his face in Stiles star wars pillow case, going completely boneless. He sighs like he’s never been more comfortable and Stiles heartbeat doubles its speed in his chest. Derek cracks an eye open to look at him and Stiles heart starts to beat impossibly faster at the softness written across his features. Derek gropes blindly under the covers until his hand finds Stiles’s, he places it on his own chest. Stiles can feel his heart under all the skin and muscle. It’s beating hard and strong and _fast_ and he huffs a quiet laugh at the ridiculousness of them. 

“You have to stay for breakfast,” He tells him, before he rolls over and slots his back comfortably against Derek’s front. 

He falls asleep before he can hear Derek’s quiet hum of agreement.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for spending some time reading this short little mess. :)


End file.
